Devils and Black Sheep
by OllieLemur
Summary: [Pirates of the Caribbean] What if the mutinous, cursed crew of the Black Pearl had found what they were looking for 8 years earlier, when Elisabeth found Will in the water? What if the Pearl got to Will first?
1. Chapter 1: Capture of Will Turner

In an alternate time, if the mutinous, cursed crew of the Black Pearl had found what they had been looking for 8 years earlier, when the ship that young Will Turner was on was destroyed in an accidental explosion.

Let's pretend for a moment. The medallion had slipped into the water, yes. It had called to the pirates, just as it would have in 8 years when Ms. Swann fell into the bay of Port Royal. But instead of Captain Norrington's ship rescuing Will Turner, instead of Elisabeth Swann finding Will and falling in love, the Black Pearl got to him first…

A/N: Title taken from "A Pirates Life for Me" from the Disney theme ride "Pirates of the Caribbean." No one in this fic, thus far, is even close to being my creation (though how I long to some day create a character as complex and wonderful as Johnny Depp's portrayal of Captain Jack Sparrow. Sigh, some day.) Anyway, enjoy, and do tell me what you think. If enough people want more, I'll write more. But for now, this first chapter is it.

Until,

Ollie

-----

"Devils and Black Sheep"

By R.C. Carpenter

Chapter One

The ship was in flames. The explosion had blown apart the merchant ship in an instant. Will Turner, a young boy ten years of age, had been at the rail, watching the foggy sea, when all the fires of hell sprang forth from the belly of the cargo hold. He felt the cold of the water before he even knew what was going, that he had been thrown from his hopes, his dreams.

As he scrambled to climb atop a piece of the exploded bow, Will coughed and choked on the gray smoke billowing from the inferno. He thought of his poor dead mother back in England, and of his vows to himself to find his merchant father working hard somewhere out there in the Caribbean waters. Now, all that would be gone.

__

Soon, mama, he thought, clawing at the section of wood and trying to keep it aloft. _Soon, I'll be back with you._

Another blast tossed Will away from the wreckage. He sank deep into the murky waters. Thrashing, weighed down by his soaked-through clothing, Will broke the surface, gasping. He swallowed the water as he tried helplessly to catch his breath. In a last effort, he caught hold of another piece of the debris. Using all of his remaining strength, Will climbed atop the thin boards and collapsed from the struggle.

Hours later, a ship broke through the haze, slicing the fog like a knife through thick, wet velvet. _The Black Pearl_ lent an ominous presence to the scene of destruction. With her tattered remnants of once-proudly flown black sails, and her weeping mermaid of a figurehead, the _Pearl_ looked like a scavenger bird as she slipped between the remains of the merchant ship.

Had the night been clear, the smoke that rose from the crackling, snapping blaze would have been seen for miles and filled the sky with a sweltering blackness. From aboard the _Pearl_, a man emerged from his quarters. Captain Barbossa surveyed the damage. An older man but not a gentleman, Barbossa let loose a toothy grin to his sneering, excited crew. "Load the boats, mates…" he said, a laugh lingering in his tone. "Let's find us a medallion."

The motley crew cheered their agreement and made haste to the rowboats. All manner of seafaring scum shaped the crew of the fastest ship in the Caribbean. Old, young, tattooed, painted, pierced, missing limbs and tongues and eyes and fingers. Snarling lips, and snaggled, rotting, missing teeth. Knives in hand, and boot, and mouth. Guns and swords haphazardly fastened to belts and pants.

If any survivors were found, the scurvy dogs would know how to handle them. But of the medallion they searched for, the one who wore it would receive their every kindness.

The men took what they could from the debris. They took what they could, rather, that was worth taking. Some rations, some goods, but little more than that. Barbossa was about to set the sails again, believing that the medallion and its owner had escaped the fires in a dinghy, when two of his men returned in their rowboat, shouting, "Captain! Captain!"

"Ay, what have ya got, boys?" the captain leaned over the rail as the boat was secured and the men climbed aboard.

The two men smiled their sinister grins, and lifted up a young half-drowned boy. Another pair of the crew took hold of the boy and dropped him on a table for the Captain to inspect. His brown hair was water-slicked to his pale face, and his merchant-class clothes were equally taught to his lithe frame.

Barbossa watched the young lad with a careful, scrutinizing eye. From behind him, clambering down the rigging, a shrilling cry went up through the air. "What says ye, Jack?" Barbossa turned to the monkey he kept as a pet.

The monkey hopped onto the table and stared at the opened shirt. There, Barbossa saw a finely crafted chain. He moved his hand towards the chain, and suddenly the young boy came gasping back to the conscious world.

He stared with wide eyes at the men surrounding him. Barbossa seemed especially unnerved to find that the boy wasn't going to die.

"I'll be takin' that chain from you, boy," Barbossa said before the young man could even find his thoughts.

At the words, Will found his head again. "No," he shouted. He would not be handing over his only connection he had left to his past, to his father.

"No?" Barbossa was amused, and the crew reflected his amusement. One of the men grabbed Will's arms and held the boy still. Barbossa reach long, spindly fingers to Will's neck, gripped the chain tightly, and snapped the necklace off.

The medallion on the end was made of solid gold. A skull's head decorated the middle. It hung from Barbossa's hand like a caught fish, one that was worth more than just money however. Salvation. Barbossa knew it. The crew knew it.

"The last piece of Cortez's treasure," Barbossa whispered airily.

The boy looked wildly from Barboss to the other faces. "Pirates?" he whispered to himself, his voice filled with dread.

"What's your name, lad?" he demanded. Will hesitated to answer. "Your name, boy. Out with it."

"W-Will Turner."

The sneaky grin on the Captain's face filled with delight. "Will Turner, eh?" he turned to the crew, smiling still, and they all chuckled. Barbossa turned back to the boy. "Well, Master Turner, you'll be sailing under my charge now."

"Sir?"

More hands descended upon Will's arms and hoisted the boy from the table.

"Lock him in the brig!" Barbossa decreed. With a final thought, he said to Will Turner, "Welcome to the _Black Pearl_!"


	2. Chapter 2: The Jewels of Pizzaro

A/N: Not as long as the last chapter. Not sure where I'm headed with this- yes, we meet up with Jack. He wants the Pearl back after all, right? I know where I'm going in the big picture, but it's the how I'm going to get to a point where I can work with this that is a bit… off the mark. Hopefully you'll enjoy. Thank you everyone for your replies- I'll definitely put in the effort to continue this if people keep reading.

Until,

Ollie

---

Devils and Black Sheep

By R.C. Carpenter

Chapter 2

The swords clashed in a furious dance. One swordsman leapt back, the other followed. They circled one another, thrust their blades, and clashed again.

Someone yelled from below the fight, "Just finish the mangy cur, already!"

Will Turner, now eighteen years old, gave a menacing grin. The man he fought volleyed the grin with a harsh glare, and dove back into the attack. Block, slash, block, thrust. Will's blade sunk deep into the sailor's gut. The man's eyes glazed over and he slide from the sword. Will smirked, wiped the blade on the man's shirt, and sheathed it.

"Did you find it?" Will asked as he leapt from the stairs to the deck. They had boarded the ship half an hour before. Rumors had been flitting about the Caribbean that a ship, disguised as a merchant vessel, was carrying some very valuable merchandise.

"Almost, Captain." Will's first mate, Caleb, threw a young boy to the ground. "Seems he knows where to find it."

Will Turner, Captain of the _Black Pearl_, drew his sword. He lifted the boy's chin with the tip of the blade. "Where is the chest?" he demanded.

The boy stammered, trying to speak.

Will's blade sliced cleanly into the boy's cheek. A fine line of crimson sprung to life on his skin. The boy's hand flew to the gash, and he stared in horror at the young pirate captain.

"Answer me!" Captain Turner demanded.

"El tesoro se protege en Port Royal, para mantener seguro. Está en Port Royal!" The boy pulled his hands together in prayer. "Misericordia! Puesto me mata!"

"What did he say?" Will demanded.

A crew member yelled, "Something about Port Royal. Holding something there."

"You, boy!" Will brought his blade directly before the lad's heart. "The jewels are in Port Royal?"

The crew member who spoke Spanish translated to the whelp.

"Si, señor! Está en Port Royal!"

"Ask him how he knows," Will ordered.

A moment later, the boy replied, "Este barco debía transportar la espalda de joyas a España."

Will turned to his shipmate whom had spoken before. "They're taking it back to Spain, he says."

"Who is watching the treasure?"

"Señor Norrington."

Will thought a moment. He had had a few brushes with Captain Norrington, since he had inherited the _Pearl_ from his adopted father, the former Captain Barbossa, rest his soul. After the curse had been lifted, it had only been a few years before most of the crew had dispersed, been caught, or died. Now, Will was left with the remainder of the fearsome crew he had sailed under Barbossa with, and a few scurvy knaves he had taken on from the pirate-infested cove of Tortuga. If he had to go head to head with Captain Norrington again, Will was confident enough.

"Norrington," he repeated to himself, the name a curse upon his lips. Will glared at his men, "Burn the ship. Kill any remaining survivors."

The boy began to plea again, but his words caught in his throat as Will ran him through.

"Back to the _Pearl_, when you're finished, mates! We're headed to Port Royal, to pay our old friend Captain Norrington a proper visit." Will smiled and swung back to his ship.

Norrington would be in for a surprise, of that the Captain of the _Black Pearl _had no doubt.


	3. Chapter 3: Pirates in Port Royal

A/N: I'm a bit lost on some of the dialogue from the movie. If anyone can help out with what they think they remember being said, do EMAIL me (DO NOT POST A REVIEW just to tell me what the lines are.) It ends in the middle of a scene, but I don't want the chapter to be too long. I'm also using this new perspective to show how the story is much different now that Will is a pirate and not a blacksmith.

Thanka and enjoy.

Until,

Ollie

----

Devils and Black Sheep

By R.C. Carpenter

Chapter 3

The city of Port Royal was a Colonial fortress, settled on Jamaica, the central island in the warm Caribbean. Royal palm trees swayed beside coconut trees. Orchids were sprinkles over the hillsides with poinciana and flaming poinsettias. Hundreds of breeds of birds, lizards, and frogs sang to accompany the sea. The city's location was ideal for trading routes and, for Will Turner and his men, perfect picking for piratical expeditions.

Though the fortress, thought to be the safest place for the English settlers, had been attacked several times, but no band was foolish enough to get in the way of the fleet and the guns that guarded the bay. No one was foolish enough, because they couldn't outrun his majesty's royal ships, The Dauntless and The Interceptor. But _The Black Pearl_ knew better.

They would wait until cover of darkness, when their arrival would cause the most confusion. Merchants, peasants, and any soldier not needed to make the rounds guarding the port would be fast asleep by then. _The Black Pearl_ left no survivors, and to procure a King's ransom, her men would make no exception this time.

*****

All the men froze in their actions to stare with wide, incredulous eyes at the sight that was floating- sinking into Port Royal's harbor. A goat bucked in one of the sailor's arms, trying to climb aboard the ship he was being loaded into, and the men went back to work.

Captain Jack Sparrow stood with his back straight and his eyes ahead, never looking behind. With his right foot out, he waited for the dock to come to him instead of the other way around. His sinking dingy hit bottom and his stepped off with a little flourish, marching past the few people walking along the dock.

A voice called to him, "Hold up!"

Jack stopped and turned his body to face the man, uninterested in whatever it was the wig wanted to speak to him about.

"It's a shilling to tie your boat up at the dock," the older man said with a stuffy air, pulling out his registration booklet. "And I shall have to have your name."

A momentary set back, Jack didn't think twice as he slapped the money onto the book. "How's about three shillings, and we forget the name?"

The man debated the offer for a fraction of a second before giving a quick smile. "Welcome to Port Royal, Mister Smith."

Jack gave a fake smile, clapped his hands flat together, and bowed slightly before walking back off in his desired direction. He paused at a podium, took a quick glance at a leather pouch, and picked it up. Shaking it, he heard a few coins jingle together. With a shrug, he pocketed the pouch and continued on his merry way.

Sinking into the port, Jack had noticed two fine ships sitting like unsuspecting ducks in the water. With a critical eye, Jack had decided that one of them would work well enough for his self-serving escapade, and now wound through the streets of Port Royal to where one of the ships was docked.

He sauntered down the steps and was not surprised to find himself face to face with two Colonial guards, pride of the King's Navy as it were. "This dock's off limits to civilians!" one cried out.

"If I find any, I shall inform you at once" With that, Jack moved back towards his mission.

Once more, the guards stepped in front of him with a flurry.

Sensing that the two were not going to just let him hop onto the ship and commandeer it, Jack had a thought. "Seems there's a big high toned and fancy to do up at the fort," he purred, hoping to appeal to the men's sense of pride. "How is that two upstanding gentlemen like y'selves did not warrant an invitation?"

The two guards seemed taken aback, but only for a moment, before they recalled their assigned duty. "Some one has to stay here and make sure this dock stays off limits to civilians."

"Ah, yes." Jack pondered a bit further. "But it seems that one over there makes this one look a bit less worth guarding."

"It's true, the _Dauntless_ is the power in these waters, but there's none what can match the _Interceptor_ as far as speed."

A sparkle lit in Jack's eyes. Oh, they really had walked into this one, hadn't they? "I know one," he said, pretending that the name had suddenly come to him from nowhere. "Supposed to be nigh uncatchable…" He paused for effect, hoping he had lured the men in, and then said, "_The Black Pearl_."

The chubbier guard gave a smug laugh. "Well, there's no _real_ ship what can match the _Interceptor_."

The guard's companion turned to him, staring blankly. "_Black Pearl_ is a real ship."

The chubby guard snickered. "No it's not."

"Yes it is. I've seen it."

With a harsh glare, the first guard asked, "You've seen the ship with black sails, that's crewed by the damned, and captained by a man so evil hell itself spat him back out?"

The second thought a moment before replying. "No… But! I have seen a ship with black sails."

"Ah, so you're saying that no ship that's not crewed by the damned and captained by a man so evil, but has black sails could possibly be the _Black Pearl_ and therefore it couldn't possibly be any other ship? Is that what you're saying?"

The second smiled. "No."

"Right. There's no real ship," he said and turned back to Jack, "that can match the _Interceptor_…"

His voice trailed off when he saw that the man he had been speaking with was no longer there. The two guards took a brief scan of the area and saw the man standing aboard the Interceptor, his hands lovingly on the wheel.

"Hey!" they called to Jack.

Jack looked up from the wheel, distracted from a daydream.

"You don't have permission to be aboard there, mate!"

"I'm sorry," Jack admitted. "It's just, it's such a pretty boat."

As a quick after thought, he corrected himself, "Ship."

"What's your name?" one of the guards asked.

"Smith!" Jack replied promptly. "Or Smithy, if you like."

The guards didn't seem fooled. "All right, Mr. Smith, what is your business in Port Royal?"

"Yeah!" The other chimed in. "And no lies!"

Jack smiled, his gold teeth glinting in the sunlight. "All right, I admit it. It is my intention to commander one of these vessels, pick up a crew in Tortuga, and rape, pillage, plunder and otherwise pilfer my weasely black guts out."

The pirate grinned wider.

The thinner guard looked frustrated. "I said no lies!"

His comrade said, "I think he's telling the truth."

"How can you tell?"

"Or perhaps," Jack joined them, "He knew you wouldn't believe him even if he told you?" He winked.

Jack stepped away from the wheel and began to spin a tale of one of his adventures to distract the men from his previous affirmation. He told them how he had come to Port Royal. A few months ago he had run ashore of what appeared to be a desert island, and how the inhabitants had taken him to their chief. After accepting a challenge, Jack had beaten the barbarian, and was made chief in his own right. He was about to tell the guards how he had then left the island after naming a new chief, to return to his life's quest, when a great splash caught all their ears.

"Elisabeth!" came the cry from above.

Jack looked to the guards. "Will you be saving her?"

"I can't swim!" the chubby guard admitted.

Jack turned to the other, who shook his head. He grumbled, "Pride of the king's navy you are."

Quickly, wasting no time, the pirate captain removed his hat and belt, which held his sword, compass, and pistol, and shoved them into the guard's arms. "Do not lose these," he demanded. He thrust his jacket into the other man's arms, stepped up onto the rail, and dove with all the grace of his family namesake.

The girl hit the bottom of the bay. Mustering all his strength, Jack pushed off the sand and pulled the young woman to the surface. He gasped, choking in a breath, but a moment later the two began to sink.

Jack looked to the dress that the woman was wearing. A quick jerk tore the fabric away, and it sank slowly back into the clear waters.

The two guards made their way to the dock where Jack pulled the girl ashore.

"Not breathing…"

Jack pushed the guards aside. "Out of my way."

He flicked his knife up the length of the salmon-colored corset constricting the girl's chest. The corset fell apart and the girl began to breathe instantly. Jack tossed the woman's garment into the hands of the thinner guard.

"I never would have thought of that," said the chubby one, staring in amazement.

Jack lifted his gaze. "Clearly you've never been to Singapore."

As Jack inspected the young girl, to make sure she wasn't hurt, he heard heavy boots approaching the scene and unfortunate words.

"Keep your guns on him."


	4. Chapter 4: Capture and Escape of Captain...

A/N: For those of you who are asking- no I don't have the script. My best memory comes with visual-audio input. I have the ability to remember about 75% of something the first time I see it. That said- I am writing out the few scenes from the movie that coincide (example- Jack's intro) because I have a few friends who have not seen the movie who are reading this. It is unfair to make the assumption that they would understand where Captain Sparrow is coming from to just jump in. It's also not very good story telling to make assumptions that the readers will know everything the author does. Right?

Sorry, no Will in the chapter. Have to organize where we have Jack Sparrow first, but I assure you, we go back to Will in the next chapter (Will got his own two chapters in Ch1 and Ch2, seems only fair Jack can have his own ^_^ )

Ok. Enjoy. Thanks for everyone leaving comments, even if most are just "I love this, write more!" Better to know people are reading then to think they're not.

Until,

Ollie

----

Devils and Black Sheep

By R.C. Carpenter

Chapter Four

"Shoot him!" Govoner Swann cried.

"Do you really intend to kill my rescuer?" Elisabeth asked as her father wrapped a jacket around her shoulders, hugging his daughter close to him.

Commodore Norrington thought a moment. A critical glare was upon his thin face, as he looked the man who had saved the life of the woman he cared for. A lot had happened today. Today, Captain Norrington became Commodore, one of the highest-ranking naval officers. Today, he had finally told his true feelings to the lovely Ms. Elisabeth Swann. Reaching the rank of Commodore made it plainly obvious to Norrington that of his goals in life, he was still lacking a proper marriage to a fine woman. Elisabeth, whom he had known since she was a young girl crossing from England, had grown to be a fine woman indeed.

When she had fallen into the bay, Norrington had been horrified. He had almost dove in after her, but the words that finally brought his sanity back about came from his first officer, Gillette. "Sir! The rocks!" he had called, holding his superior back from the edge. "It's a miracle _she_ missed them!"

The procession of soldiers followed quickly after their Commodore as he rushed to the docks. He hadn't seen the sailor dive in for his beloved; he had only seen a strange man standing over Elisabeth, her corset in the hands of a guard, and her lovely dress no where in sight.

Something about the man, perhaps the fashion in which he was dressed- yellowed sailor's shirt and a dulled blue vest, faded red sash about his head and an equally tired looking white and red striped one about his waist, deep blue pants and rugged brown boots that came up to his knees. His hair was a mess of ruddy black-brown braids, strung in places with beads, feathers, marbles, and coins. A belt across his chest and midsection, several rings, and heavy amounts of kohl beneath his eyes… Norrington did not like the looks of this fellow. Not at all.

Keeping his leer in check, Norrington pulled on a blank masked. "I believe thanks are in order, then." He stuck his hand out to the questionable looking sailor.

The man hesitated with a wince before taking Norringont's hand like a man trying to grab hold of an electric eel.

When Norrington grasped his hand tightly and pulled the sailor forward sharply, the sting was felt. He shoved the sleeve of the shirt upwards and found what he had been expecting. Branded into the man skin was a capital P.

"Had a brush with the East India trading company, did we… pirate?"

Governor Swann was outraged. "Hang him!"

"Gillette," Norrington called. "Fetch the irons."

"Yes, sir!" Gillette ran off.

The Commodore pushed the sleeve up further when the saw the edge of a tattoo. On the man's skin was a bird flying past a sunset on the ocean. "Well, well," he said, quite pleased with himself. "Jack Sparrow is it?"

Jack smile winced again. "_Captain_ Jack Sparrow," he corrected.

Norrington was not impressed. "I don't see you ship… _Captain_."

"I'm in th'market… as it were."

"He said he was here to commandeer one of our ships," one of the guards Jack had weaseled his way past blurted out.

Norrington shot a harsh glare to Sparrow. "Is that so?"

"I told you he was telling the truth," the guard whispered to his comrade. He turned back to the Commodore. "These are his, sir!"

Jack reached a bit for his effects, but held back when he saw the dozen or so guns trained on him adjust to his movements.

Shifting quickly through the small bundle, Norrington listed off the items. He lifted a pistol. "No extra rounds, nor powder… A compass that doesn't point north…" He pulled Jack's sword from its sheath and smiled a patronizing smile when he heard the metal slide against the casing. "And I half expected it to be made of wood. You are, by far, the worst pirate I have ever heard of."

Jack raised his hands up, pointing. His voice was mellow and calm as he said, "But you have heard of me."

Several soldiers took hold of Jack and brought him to Gillette as he returned with fetters.

Elisabeth pushed her way to Norrington and stood between him and the pirate. "Commodore, are you really going to have this man hanged? He saved my life."

Norrington was staunch in his resolved. "A lifetime of sin is cannot be forgiven by one good deed."

Bitter, Jack retorted with, "Ah, but it seems enough to condemn him."

Norrington caught Jack's gaze and held it. "Indeed."

Gillette moved away from the now-shackled pirate. Seeing his moment of opportunity, Jack gave a sigh.

"Finally." He threw his short chains over the young woman's neck. Instantly, all weapons were aimed at Jack Sparrow and the governor's daughter.

"Don't shoot!" Governor Swann cried.

Jack knew that the tides had turned in his favor. With the Governor so close by and so unwilling to let harm befall his daughter, everything would work out perfectly. "My effects, Commodore."

The air of the dock was tense with apprehension. The Commodore held out the bundle of Jack's belongings. Whispering into the girl's ear, Jack asked, "Elisabeth is it?"

Elisabeth gritted her teeth. "It's Ms. Swann."

"Ms. Swann, if you'd be so kind."

She took hold of the bundle with a quick snatch. Jack turned her around in his arms, grinning thinly. "Now, Ms. Swann, if you'd be very kind."

Elisabeth shoved Jack's leather hat onto his head, fixing it roughly. She replaced his belt around his waist. The sword and pistol clanked together as she wrapped her arms around his back. Jack took the moment to rest his head above her shoulder. He smiled at Norrington and shifted his eyes to Elisabeth with a hungry stare before shooting back up to Norrington. His expression made Norrington ill, especially with his darling Elisabeth's arms around the scoundrel.

He could almost hear Sparrow's voice mocking him, _I've got your girl, mate. What'r you going to do about it?_

Elisabeth shoved Jack's remaining weapons in his belt and the pirate straightened up. "Easy on the goods, love," he warned, his voice husky and deep.

Ms. Swann stared up at Jack, her lips pursed in rage. "You're despicable."

"Sticks and stones, love. I saved your life; you saved mine. We're squared." Jack turned Elisabeth away from him again. "Gentleman! Milady…"

Jack stepped back carefully with Elisabeth. The guards delayed their instincts to move in time with him.

Jack continued. "You will always remember this as the day you almost caught… Captain… Jack… Sparrow!"

With a quick shove, Elisabeth found herself falling to the group of soldiers. Norrington caught her and passed her off to her father. Behind her, Jack Sparrow had set some rigging off, and was swinging from a rope high in the air.

"Now will you shoot him?" Governor Swann begged.

Norrington shouted, "Open fire!"

Bullets from the rifles sliced through the air beside Jack as he whirled above their heads. He landed a grip on a beam, hooked his chains over a rope, and zipped down to the road. He ran off into the town with the sound of Norrington's men hurrying after him.

He hid until he was certain that those chasing him had all gone by, and then ducked into a blacksmith's shop.

The shop was ill-lit, and smelled of fire, dirt, and wood. Off to the right, Jack spotted a donkey on some sort of mechanism. Setting down his hat, Jack looked around the shop for something to break his bonds.

A thunk made his pause in his search.

Carefully, cautiously, Jack approached the noise. There he found the blacksmith himself, sleeping soundly. A bottle, no doubt rum or whiskey, had fallen from his hands. Jack tapped him with one long, dirty finger. When the blacksmith gave no sign of waking, Jack turned away.

He turned back quickly, shouting, "Well!"

Still, the blacksmith slept soundly.

Without further delay, Jack went back to his search. He found a hammer and positioned the chains on a slab of steel. He slammed the hammer onto the links as best he could, and became frustrated when they didn't break.

After a moment of quick thought, Jack got an idea from the cogs that turned when, he assumed, the donkey pushed on it's harness.

He took a poker from the fire, gave it a once over and eyed the donkey.

The ass took off at once when he felt the red-hot metal against his rear end.

After hooking the chains in the wheel, Jack was free.

He slipped out of the blacksmith's shop and into an alley. From there, he went to the woods, and made his way back to the bay, careful to keep an eye out for any one who might be looking for him. He would wait in his hiding place until dark. When night fell, he would take that chance to commandeer the _Interceptor_.


	5. Chapter 5: Blood to Be Repaid

I know it's been a long wait- hopefully it's worth it.

After much deliberating, I have finally decided to add another chapter on to this tale. I have some ideas on where to put everything and everyone so that my ultimate goal with this story can be set into motion. But, as I am working mainly on my own fiction and striving towards my goals of publication, I have little time for fanfiction (no matter how delightfully interesting the subject matter may be.) If I update this tale again any time soon, it will be at a whim and because the fanfiction fairy whispered in my ear and drove me to it. I love this story and where I have managed to take Will's character, but odds are this is yet another tale that shall never see its completion. I mean, seriously, it takes a chapter to get through what the movie did in 5 minutes! ^_^

As always, reviews are much anticipated and greatly appreciated.

Until!

Ollie

--------------

  


Devils and Black Sheep

By R.C. Carpenter

Chapter 5

Nighttime was a beautiful time. Captain Will Turner thought so at least. All of his fondest memories and favorite activities occurred at night. Oh the things that darkness could cover! One could pillaging, rape, murder, and plunder without that pesky sun to get in his eyes or the alarm being sounded upon his arrival. And who could truly remember the face of yet another pirate on a moonless evening? His flag would wave proud on the ship of course- there was really no need to be modest about such accomplishments- but, if ever they needed to hide, no one was going to be able to point them out in a crowd. Especially not a crowd of unruly, drunken, stammering heathens.

If he hadn't long ago learned to stop such boyish things, Captain Turner would have been giddy over the impending events. Port Royal, while not without its own seedy underbelly, was about to get the ravaging of a lifetime. _Her inhabitants should count themselves as lucky, _he thought. _Not every colonial base gets the distinct honor of being ransacked by _The Black Pearl_._

As the _Pearl_ and her crew drew ever closer to their destination, Will's thoughts turned back to other times. Better times or worse times, he could never be quite sure. His life could have been different, this he knew and felt with an unbridled abandon. Fate rode the young pirate fiercely, and he feared that looming doom. For what right had a pirate to live out his days in sunny splendor? The only fit end for a man such as himself was in glorious battle with a savage foe. They would clash their swords in a lightning duel. The dance would take them from one's ship to the other's and back again. Over planks and swung across ropes. The end Captain Turner envisioned for himself would be spoken of for years to come by all his mates. Perhaps the tale would lead to pirate legend and some would say his ghost even haunted the straight where they buried his body at sea.

Will closed himself up in his quarters.

The sad fact, he knew, was that a pirate had a few ways to go. Down in legend and myth wasn't typical.

At the end of a sword, bullet, or noose. Those were the most likely ways, and chances were that none would be honorable. If he was to die by another man's sword, Will prayed to whatever god he believed in that it would not be a mutinous man's doing. A bullet in the back he hoped to avoid. Though at unruly bars in the mangiest of places, he often envisioned a stray round planting itself in his brain.

Of all the ways of death that Will would strive to avoid, swinging from the end of a rope belonging to some pompous and smug King's servant was the least appealing. Even if it meant taking his own life, Will would not be 'made an example of' by any man who sought to claim his freedom.

And freedom was something that Will held dearly.

Since he had been found long ago, Will didn't have much. The last piece of his family that he had- a gold coin on a chain sent to him from his father- had been used to heal the _Pearl's_ previous crew. He had nearly murdered Barbossa that day when the old scalawag had taken from him the one thing he had left in this world; the one thing that reminded him that he was William James Turner the second, only surviving son of a prominent and god-fearing sailor and his pious seamstress wife.

Again, he had almost murdered the man he would soon call Captain and Father when Barbossa had taken young Will aside to his personal quarters. Sitting in those very quarters at that moment, Will recalled what Barbossa had told him.

"I can see in your eyes that you have questions, Master Turner. Am I right?" The sea dog grinned, revealed teeth that were more black and green than yellow. Will had to be jabbed in the back by one of Barbossa's crewman before he could manage his reply. Barbossa continued, "I could let you shoot off your trap all day, boy, or I could answer the important questions for ye. First though, y'must eat."

He barked an order at the two men standing behind the boy. The men stepped outside and stood guard at the door.

Barbossa led Will to a table near the back of the main room. "Famished, eh?" he laughed. "Have a seat, young man."

With an uneasy heart, Will did as he was told. He had a feeling that whatever the punishment was for disobeying the captain's orders, he didn't want to find out first hand. At the table, he pulled out a chair to sit. Indeed, he was half-starved. The pirates had locked him below deck for a whole day and a half. He hadn't gotten so much as a crumb of bread, though they had allowed him the luxury of a cupful of rancid water. Now, sitting before the feast that was prepared at the old man's small dinner table, the hunger in Will's belly clawed at him. He reached for a roll immediately and bit it in two.

The captain of the black ship watched, enrapt.

He pushed forward a cup. Barbossa's voice was detached as he said, "Have some wine."

Will clasped his boy's hands around the cup and drank greedily. His father had let him have a glass of wine before and though his mother had scolded the both of them, Will was pretty sure no one was going to be doing that now. Had he been any less starved, the fleeting thought of his family would have pained him greatly. As it were, the need of the physical overpowered the musings of the emotional.

As Will ate, Barbossa seemed ever more intent upon watching him. He procured a flawless, shiny green apple. "And the apples? One of those next?"

The young boy looked up from the chicken leg he had been gnawing on. He took the apple in his hand and slowly raised it to his mouth, keeping his eyes on the old knave. He went to take a bite and Barbossa's mouth opened with his, then closed into an O shape. "Go on. Go ahead…" he urged.

A cold shiver ran down Will's spine. Something wasn't quite right.

Will set the apple down. "I'd rather not, sir, if it's all the same to you."

Barbossa let out a laugh that, at the time, Will had regarded as wicked but that the young man would grow to think of as comforting. "Oh, come now, boy! You think there's something wrong? Eh? Poised it perhaps have I?"

Will nodded solemnly.

"There'd be no sense in killin' ye, Master Turner," he said with a wink.

Will felt his face turn a dozen shades of horrified green. The food which he had inhaled now threatened to be revisited upon his plate.

"If you're not going to kill me, why am I still here? Am I to be your prisoner for ever?"

Again that wretched laugh filled Will's ears. He was half-tempted to cup his hands over his head to block out the sound.

"You don't understand what it was you were wearin', do ye?"

From out of nowhere it seemed, Barbossa's pet monkey came screeching over. In its tiny hands, the furry beast was carrying the gold coin that had once been around Will's neck on a string. He reached for it quickly, thinking of his father, but quickly drew his hands back to himself.

Barbossa marveled at the coin. "This is Aztec gold… one of eight hundred and eighty-two identical pieces they delivered in a stone chest to Cortés himself. Blood money paid to stem the slaughter he wreaked upon them with his armies. But the greed of Cortés was insatiable. So the heathen gods placed upon the gold a terrible curse. Any mortal that removes but a single piece from that stone chest shall be punished for eternity."

He watched Will with a glint in his eye and a smile hidden upon his lips.

"We pirates didn't think much of that old ghost story. Buried on an Island of Dead what cannot be found except for those who know where it is. Find it, we did. There be the chest. Inside be the gold. And we took 'em all!"

A spidery hand snatched out at air in exclamation of Barbossa's statement. Will flinched, afraid that the captain had been reaching for him.

"We spent 'em and traded 'em and frittered 'em away on drink and food and _pleasurable company_. The more we gave 'em away, the more we came to realize," he sighed, "the drink would not satisfy, food turned to ash in our mouths, and all the pleasurable company in the world could not slake our lust." He turned his buzzard's gaze onto the young man. "We are cursed men, Master Turner . Compelled by greed, we were, but now we are consumed by it." His voice became intense as he said, "There is one way we can end our curse. All the scattered pieces of the Aztec gold must be restored and the blood repaid. Thanks to ye, we have the final piece..."

"And the blood to be repaid?" Will asked with a choke caught in his throat.

Barbossa grinned. "That's why there's no sense to be killin' ye." As an after thought, he added, "Yet."

The skinny hand of the captain produced the shining green fruit once more and extended it to his guest. "Apple?"

Will hit the apple away, terrified, and ran for the door in hopes that he could return to the safety of the brig and forget this nightmare. Behind him the captain laughed and laughed. It was not until Will stepped out onto the deck that he knew why the old sea dog was cackling as he did.

All around him, in all stations, were the bones of dead men. Not just any dead men; the pirates that had crewed the ship. As his eyes went wider with fear, Will saw past the first glimpse and was even more aghast. Where previously he had thought that the men were all now dead- dead and decayed beyond what a few hours might have done- he understood that it was far worse. The skeletons were moving! The skeletons of the crew were still manning the ship!

Will stepped backwards and into a dreadfully familiar figure. The captain grasped the boy's shoulder tightly.

"Look, Will! The moonlight shows us for what we really are."

As he was told, Will looked all over the ship, which seemed to be crawling with the tattered remains of bodies and clothing. The sight made him ill, more than Barbossa's words ever could have.

"We are not among the living, and so we cannot die, but neither are we dead. For too long I've been parched with thirst and unable to quench it. Too long I've been starving to death and haven't died. I feel nothing! Not the wind on my face nor the spray of the sea, nor the warmth of a woman's flesh."

Barbossa pushed Will away from him. The boy gave a start as the Captain slowly walked towards him and into the moonlight. The old man's flesh melted away, like sand blown in the wind, and left Will standing face to face with a sort of zombie demon that was sure to fill his nightmares for eternity- even if eternity was only a few more nights.

Barbossa lifted up a bottle of wine and swigged the drink back, letting it roll into his mouth. Will felt faint as he saw the red liquid pour down the Captain's throat and then splash out over his ribs. The captain laughed and tossed the bottle away. It smashed against the ship.

Will took that moment to pass out from the stress as the damned crew laughed with their equally damned captain. 

A shout came from above Captain Will Turner. "Land ahoy!"

An evil smirk crawled to the young pirate's face. He returned to the deck. Will gave the orders to his men to wait until nightfall before they sailed any closer. The crew rallied to receive their orders- which were the same as usual. Some men were to do the looting and the plundering, making certain to find the rations and supplies that the ship would need most such as food, fresh water, and rounds for their guns. They were low on cannon balls after that last ship they had boarded and what they had taken from their victims was slim pickings.

Another group of men would set the town on fire, kill any guards and townsfolk that seemed particularly annoying that they might cause a threat, and take any woman they saw fit to. Even if this time they might be required to leave more living than dead, they still had a reputation to live up to and fear to instill in the hearts of those pompous landlubbers that thought the King's navy could protect them. If they couldn't kill everyone, everyone's life at least had to be touched by the blackness of their cold, dead hearts. 

While the rest of the crew was off raping and looting, Will would lead a group of his most trusted sailors to find the treasure that they sought.

A chuckle almost crept into Will's throat as he viewed the situation with a particular glee. He was the most feared pirate captain in all of the Caribbean- and some day, he hoped, in all the seven seas- and yet once upon a time he had violently denied the possibility that he could ever bow to the sea as his Mistress.

Will remembered how he had fought the suggestion that his father had been a pirate. Fought it for so long that he had almost forgotten why he was fighting it. The whole voyage to the cave, Will was vehement that his father had been an honest, law-abiding merchant sailor whom Will had come in search of after his mother had died back home in England.

That cave where Will's conviction had gained its first taste of uncertainty was now the port the _Pearl_ called home on the Isla de Muerta; an island that cannot be found except by those who already know where it is.

Clearly, he could remember that day. He could feel the captain close his hand over the coin and the blade. He sensed how the dread that had built up in him had escalated when Barbossa had pulled the blade towards himself sharply.

A breath hitched inwards with a little hiss as young Will Turner felt the bite of the dagger's edge. Barbossa turned the boy's hand over, forcing Will to release the bloodied coin. With an eerie ca-cling, the gold piece joined its accursed brethren.

The men waited a moment…

They looked around.

"I don't feel any different!" one called.

Another, Pintel was his name, shouted, "How do we know if it worked?"

With a roll of his eyes, Barbossa drew his pistol and shot Pintel clean through the heart. The stunned expression on the man's face was still there as he toppled over backwards. Dead.

Will's blood had broken the curse of the _Black Pearl_.

Instead of killing him then or leaving him there to starve, Barbossa took Will back with them to the _Pearl_. "For his bravery in face of dangers unknown," the Captain announced before the crew as they all helped themselves to a sumptuous meal, "I hereby declare that young Will Turner a full-fledged member of this 'ere crew! Now bring your captain and the cabin boy a round of wine, y'scurvy dogs!"

The men cheered and were merry. They drank and ate like they never had before. Later that week, the pirates stopped in Tortuga and sought the comfort of loose women and more food and ale. A few of the men pitched in and bought Will a young girl of his own. She claimed she was thirteen and a virgin- the men all laughed at this- and though thirteen was legal by the King's law, Will still felt uneasy. His first time with a woman- girl he would later think- had not been what he had expected. In fact, he shut himself up in a closet for several days with the sacks of vegetables his only company. _Better company than that spiteful whore! _he thought bitterly.

Barbossa eventually had the door kicked down. They gave the boy a thorough flogging for being the biggest jellyfish they had ever met. He was a man now, they kept telling him though all referred to him as Boy or Bootstrap's Boy. Only Barbossa called Will by name, sometimes even as Master Turner in a cynical kind of way that was less demeaning than "boy" any day though hardly much better.

One night several years later, when the ship was far away from cursed gold and eager young sluts ready to dine on his nether regions for a few coins, Will knocked on the captain's door. He had questions; he hoped inside lay answers.

The biggest itch he need scratched was why Barbossa hadn't killed him yet. The Captain had him sit and poured his cabin boy a glass of wine, which he politely declined. Always, the captain noted, he was so polite. Something, however, was obviously on his mind. And the captain didn't like beating around the bush.

Will voiced his concern that this was all some elaborate scheme and that at some town he was going to be dumped off or that the crew was going to tie his legs together and drop him over the side of the ship to drag behind them.

This gave the captain a hearty laugh. "I can't say one way or the other 'bout the crew, but as for myself, that I can be answerin' for ye. See truth is, lad, I've grown fond of you over the years. There's been times, aye, that I've thought of just slittin' your throat and being done with ye. But you remind me of your father. Good man he. _Shame_ what that other feller did to him."

"Other fellow?"

"The former captain of this 'ere ship." His tone turned darker, as though just saying his words brought evil omens. "Goes by the name of Jack Sparrow."

Will repeated the name softly, as though it held in it all the secrets of the world. "Wh- what did this Sparrow do to my father?"

"Oh, well!" Barbossa's voice lightened again. He smiled as he tried to brush over the topic. "I shouldn't be dredging up such _dirty water_. It's in the past, young Will."

"Captain, you knew my father. I trust you on that now. Breaking your curse proves that I have pirate in my blood." Will sighed and leaned forward to his captain to catch the man's eyes. He locked his gaze and never faltered, showing his sincere need for the answers. "Please. One pirate to another."

Barbossa nodded and gave in to the young cabin boy. He took in a deep breath- it had been almost three years since the spell had been broken, but he still relished in every moment of his beating heart and his rising lungs. "Y'see lad," he began, "we were on our way to that cursed Aztec gold. Many times I've wished I'd never heard of the _Black Pearl_ or her captain. I've wished I hadn't signed aboard but I did. I sailed under Sparrow's captainage for quite a few years. And in those years I met a young whip that went by the name Bootstrap Bill."

Will's brows furrowed. "I've heard that name around the ship. I hear the men refer to me with it."

Again the captain nodded. "I'd think so. The men see a lot of Bootstrap in you. He was your father after all."

Yes, he knew his father had been a pirate. That he had been with the _Pearl's_ crew only made sense.

"What did Jack Sparrow do?"

"Well, the rumor around the ship was that we were hunting for gold that pa'ticular voyage. As first mate, the crew put the task on me to get equal shares in the treasure's whereabouts. Now Sparrow," Barbossa leaned close to Will, getting caught up in his own tale, "he seemed like a solid man. He had strange ways about him and odd styles of thinkin', but he seemed as upright and honest as a pirate captain could be asked for under the circumstances. That was of course until someone crossed him."

A paused lingered between Barbossa's words before he continued. He took a swig of the wine Will had refused and went on.

"Sparrow gave us the location of the treasure with a little coaxing. We all found it and we all took from it, as I told you before- 'cept for the Captain. He never quite got the chance. After we had loaded the treasure aboard and had sailed a good distance from the coast, Sparrow hunted down your father- the only man who he had originally told about the gold- and tied a weight to Bootstrap's bootstraps…. And tossed him overboard as an example. It didn't sit right with us that he shoulda done to Bootstrap such a horrible, terrible thing. A share in that knowledge was owed to us; Sparrow shoulda given it freely. So we mutinied that night and made Jack governor of a nice little island far from away from any ears that might hear his woeful tale."

Will stared at Barbossa: half-dumbstruck and half in disbelief. At last he shook himself out of the stupor. Will raged inside. He clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white. "You're the only thing to a father I have now, Captain." He wiped away the beginnings of tears with his sleeve and steeled his nerves. He couldn't be caught crying. Crying was for babies and Will was a man, after all. Wasn't he? Will's voice was not more than a growling grumble as he said, "If I ever find this Sparrow…" He shook his head grimly. "The blood of Bootstrap Bill Turner will be repaid."

Standing on the ship that his enemy had once owned- the ship he had inherited after a long illness took Barbossa a few years after that night (_A horrible way to go_, Will had thought. _Crippled and weak._)- Will surveyed the not-so-far off harbor of Port Royal where another old foe was stationed. Will nodded as he thought back to his promise to his father's soul. He had come close to finding Jack Sparrow several times now. Between large hauls, he would sometimes take a skeleton crew out to go man-hunting for a few months. After the ship sacked Port Royal and took possession of Pizzaro's jewels from Norrington, Will would be back on the trail of the man who had murdered his father.

Jack Sparrow's blood would fill his cup.


End file.
